


(Un)Fairy Tale

by marvelist (Ardent)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dragons, M/M, Prince!Victor, Prince!yuuri, Victor's shenanigans, Yuuri's insecurities, anxious yuuri, dragon!victor, modern au but with magic!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardent/pseuds/marvelist
Summary: Victor gets cursed. Luckily, Yuuri's royalty and pretty much available to deliver true love's first kiss.Just...not in the way Disney imagined it.___"I...don't understand. What are you talking about?"The dragon goes on one knee, which looks absurdly comical with how lopsided that makes his bulky body, and swings his ocean blue tail around to retrieve the iron manacles tied around it. This, the dragon presents to Yuuri in two clawed hands and a happy rumble."Crown Prince Yuuri Katsuki, 14th generation of the Kingdom of Hasetsu. Will you do me the honor of becoming my royal captive in a tower?"





	1. never put off until tomorrow | that which you can do the day after tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title taken from Funny Curated Quotes.

Once upon a time, in a land somewhat far away from the country of Hasetsu, there lived a Devastatingly Handsome Prince who got turned into a Beast.

~*~

If this is where the reader expects to find four long paragraphs about how the DHP wakes up to find his facade changed and his entire life changed even further amidst screams, roiling angst and protests of how he can never show his hideous face to the world again while retreating into a dilapidated yet tastefully decorated and animated castle that curiously never runs out of food, to jealously guard over a wilting rose until his one true love comes along to mend his ways and save his soul, this is not that story.

Sorry?

Instead, this is what happens:

~*~

Victor Nikiforov wakes one morning to intense heat and the curtains in his room going up in flames. There's some screaming to be had by his night guards, as much as the situation should warrant, and a trail of servants are wielding water filled buckets, waved haphazardly at him instead of at the flames. He's alarmed by the fire, as any person possessing a healthy dose of survival instincts would be, and immediately sits up to dodge away from the sparks.

Instead, his tail takes out the entire back wall.

"Oh!" he exclaims, letting out a gust of surprised air and whoops, there goes his sheets. And the bed. And a small part of the ceiling. The flames on them are an even deeper shade of blue than the ones licking up the curtains, turning near white towards the center. The heat is enough to make him comfortably toasty. Pretty intense to look at, if anyone asks him later.

Nobody does. _Rude_.

One servant faints, while the rest of the guards finally show up.

It's instinct, using a clawed hand to block the projectiles, which leads to the discovery that he can hardly feel the weapons being thrown at him. Even when the guns get whipped out they don't penetrate his hardened skin, not even leaving a scratch behind as the bullets plunk harmlessly onto the ground. The guards are starting to panic, while his dog Makkachin is bouncing enthusiastically around his wickedly clawed legs after a few seconds of curious sniffing.

So cute! His precious Makkachin! Look at him frolicking with joy!

He scoops Makkachin up into one enormous hand to protect him from any stray ricochets, and yells (it comes out as a roar really) to get the room's attention. Everyone freezes in abject fear, and Victor clears his throat.

Which, weird. Apparently clearing his throat makes a large rumbling sound that literally shakes the floor.

Another servant faints.

Victor opens his maw (look at how flexible his jaw is! How lovely!) and tries to speak. It takes a few tries, but he finally gets his stiff lips to obey. At least he still has lips. He imagines eating will be quite messy without them.

"No need to panic! I have everything under control!" Victor reassures them. The wooden curtain rod that's engulfed in flames falls onto the floor. 

The guard usually stationed outside his door looks like he's going to cry. "Prince Victor?" he says, as if dreading the answer.

"Yes! Very good! Ten points for you." The guard looks like he doesn't want the ten points, but Victor ignores him and swings his enormous head back (what luck that princes always lived in roomy castle suites!) to inspect the rest of his morphed body. Such pearly white scales, iridescent during movement, and laid with such grace like overlapping flower petals! The pattern continues all the way down, where it merges with the darker tone until his spiked tail ends in a brilliant blue, the same shade as his eyes. The same gradient pattern graces the tips of his wings. He swings the tail appendage from side to side, pleased overall with the look. He can't see his face or check out his total wingspan, but he's sure he'll have plenty of time to do that later.

By the time he's finished with his inspection, his security adviser is at the door. "Bozhe moĭ, dear Lord, where is the Crown Prince?! Why are you fools standing there, attack that beast and find the prince at once!!"

"Really, Yakov, I'm hardly a beast. More like a dragon," Victor says, quite content with himself. "European, by the looks of it."

Yakov freezes. "Vitya?" he asks, questioningly, using the diminutive nickname he's had for Victor since he was the size of a bean.

Victor rests back on his haunches, gently placing Makkachin back on the floor. His dog licks his thumb claw in thanks and bounds between his front legs, sitting on his own haunches and plopping against Victor's massive belly.

That seems to be answer enough for Yakov, who covers his face with his palms. "Why. Why do these things always happen to you," comes his muffled words.

Victor would take more offense to that if, one- the room isn't still ablaze and two- if he isn't the coolest creature to have ever existed. He decides to prioritize safety first, admiration of his new improved state later.

"Fire. Fire! If the rest of the conscious people wouldn't mind, could you please put out the fire currently consuming my room? And be a dear and transport the passed out people to another room. No need to step on them or give them lung damage."

~*~

They can't put out the fire, apparently it's something to do with dragon's breath and the undying light of wrath or some such nonsense, so Victor's forced to step up to the plate and figure out how to deflame his own room. It takes a few tries, but once Victor figures out that he's pretty much impervious to fire, he starts literally smothering the flames with his scaly hands.

It's more fun than he's had in a long time.

It's more torture than Yakov's had in his entire life.

Yakov scrambles afterwards and sends missives to all the known, talented mages in the land, for he correctly deduces that this is a curse that needs breaking. He takes action and plans a ball while he's at it, sending out invites to all of the eligible single ladies, men, and identified as others out there, figuring he wouldn't wait for the mages to tell him that true love's first kiss will do the trick.

Victor catches wind of the plans, wails some derivative of "BUT I WANNA STAY A DRAGON, _NOOO_ " and flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written because the idea of Victor being a finicky dragon makes me lol. The entire fic is already outlined, including the ending and all, and just needs to be written. So any and all encouragement (including kudos!) is like happy fuel for my drive.
> 
> Please don't ask me to update faster though. I'm like Yuuri and pressure of that nature kills my creativity faster than an oreo cookie being devoured. Thank you!


	2. when nothing goes right...go left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor needs to work on his pitching techniques. 
> 
> Or: how to derail a Disney story in 25 words or less. gj, Victor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who dropped a word of encouragement and/or hit that kudos button! You all inspired this part, so it came out much faster than I expected. I appreciate every one of the reviews/kudos, and will be responding to the comments shortly. You're all awesome. （´・｀ ）♡
> 
> Fic inspired by a post I saw on tumblr (for the life of me, I can't seem to find it again) but will link to it when I do. Don't want to give details yet since it might spoil the story.

Prince Yuuri Katsuki of the Kingdom of Hasetsu is but a mediocre prince in his own eyes. Plain, awkward, with a tendency to insert anxiousness into any situation until it becomes a catastrophe. And yet with all of these qualities, his regal father still sends him out on all the delicate and diplomatic situations, seemingly unconcerned that Yuuri will ruin it all.

They all thankfully work out in the end, even if Yuuri does flub a lot at the beginning of the negotiations. And for some odd reason, his people really love him? He's not sure about that one either.

All he knows is that his own people are acting as literal meat shields between him and the _earth to heaven dragon_ that's stomping about on his grounds, ignoring every weapon that's being lobbed at it.

The dragons snuffs and sneezes, looking quite pleased with itself when it sets a nearby hay bale on fire.

" _Oh my god_ ," Yuuri breathes, half a breath away from plunging out the window and flying to his possibly fiery, definitely painful death. Phichit grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him back in.

"Yuuri, be careful!" Phichit doesn't release his grip, successfully keeping Yuuri from charging for the window again. He also, Yuuri notes out of the peripheral of his vision, takes a quick selfie with the dragon with his free hand. The phone disappears as mysteriously as it appeared. 

"It's a dragon! In the yard! And it's not eating the cows! Why isn't it eating the cows?!" Yuuri realizes, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he sounds frantic and hysterical, but you know, _mythical dragon. In the courtyard._ Didn't they have border patrols and protection spells to prevent this? Or extinction? Dragons are extinct, right? By virtue of being _mythical?_

"Yes, so let's be rational and not attract it's attention by presenting our heads as targets." Phichit draws his gunblade ( _as if that will do anything_ , Yuuri frantically thinks), and drags Yuuri towards the door. They barely make it there when the dragon lets out a bone rattling roar, making Yuuri squeak and sending his hearing into a high pitched whine.

" _Phichit!_ Stop! My people are out there! I can't abandon them like this." Yuuri digs his heels in and yanks on his arm, but Phichit has always been deceptively strong for his size and so his grip doesn't budge.

"I knew you would say that. We're not abandoning them, we're getting a better vantage point, so the dragon won't spot us checking out its weak spots." Phichit looks back at Yuuri as he starts dragging him again, Yuuri willingly following along this time. "I may be part of your personal guard, but I would never ask you to abandon the people you love."

There's no time to thank Phichit for understanding him in this when no one else has, and so he concentrates on running and keeping up with the soldier instead.

When they reach the side alcove attached to the supply room, Yuuri's surprised to hear civilized conversation instead of more roaring and general destruction and mayhem. There's not much screaming besides the initial startled ones when the dragon first arrived (Hasetsu people are a sturdy, hardened bunch), so Yuuri clearly hears the demand that the creature makes.

"Are you sure there isn't a Prince Yuuri here?" The dragon pleasantly questions, to Yuuri's growing horror and amazement and his people's instant denials. "Maybe he's at his summer villa? I only met him once at the Swiss ice skating convention, where I said 'Hi' and he said 'Nope' but I'm pretty sure his father told me that he and his family lived here all year round. Are you sure you're not hiding him because I'm all scaly and big? I promise you, I'm harmless." The dragon tries for a (probably in his own mind) fairly friendly smile, that instead exposes the many sharp teeth he has at his disposal to rip a person's limbs off. Looking at how razor sharp they are, probably one rip will do for all four limbs. Efficiency and all.

At his side, Phichit starts shaking his head. The grip on his wrist tightens. "Prince Yuuri, _don't_."

 _Don't what_ , Yuuri wonders, even as his feet takes him out of the cover of the alcove, not far enough into the yard with Phichit's tight grip on his wrist, but with enough movement that he catches the dragon's keen eye.

Disturbingly enough, the dragon looks happy to see him, inhaling deeply in his direction. Scenting him?

"Prince Yuuri!" The people around him all start screaming, some telling him to run away, others- like Minako- rushing to his aid. It takes every ounce of courage Yuuri can dredge up not to budge from his spot as the fearsome creature storms at him, every step shaking the ground as if it's an earthquake. The silvery dragon is massive, or maybe it just seems that way when it's nearly on top of Yuuri. Phichit rushes in front of him, throwing both arms and sword up in a throwing stance as if to act as a barricade and Yuuri has had _enough_.

He surges around Phichit and side whacks the dragon as hard as he can on the nose.

The dragon rears back in surprise, rumbling with discontent and shifting from feet to feet. Yuuri scowls at it and holds up his reddened palm, ignoring Phichit's desperate scramble against his back and the frantic pounding of his heart. "Stop right there! How dare you come here and frighten my people! If you don't stop and leave, I'll...I'll...Well, I'll do something you'll sincerely regret!" Yuuri yells furiously up at its startled face.

The dragons tilts its head at him, the corner of its lizard lips lifting in a disconcerting smile. After a moment, its head lowers towards the ground, practically at eye level with Yuuri. Its chest rumbles with delighted laughter. "You're exactly as your father described, Prince Yuuri Katsuki," it compliments.

Which, what? Yuuri tries not to stammer. "Are you here to collect a d-debt against my father? Because I won't allow that either. I'd rather you take it out on me instead."

The dragon shakes its head, a quick movement that disturbs the area around Yuuri like a light wind. Well, as if that isn't alarming.

"Just you," the dragon confirms. "Technically, any prince or princess will do, but then I remembered that you're the most graceful in the land." Yuuri is confused by this description of him (he trips over his bedspread and walks into walls in the morning, how is that even remotely graceful?) but when he looks around at his people, more than half of them are nodding along in agreement with the dragon, even Minako, his dancing instructor. And if that isn't surreal, he's not sure what is. The dragon continues, "And since this is going to be _my_ version of a fairy tale, I think there's some poetic license to that, don't you think?"

"I...don't understand. What are you talking about?"

The dragon goes on one knee, which looks absurdly comical with how lopsided that makes his bulky body, and swings his ocean blue tail around to retrieve the iron manacles tied around it. This, the dragon presents to Yuuri in two clawed hands and a happy rumble. 

"Crown Prince Yuuri Katsuki, 14th generation of the Kingdom of Hasetsu. Will you do me the honor of becoming my royal captive in a tower?"

~*~

Yuuri emphatically says _No_ and life goes back to normal in Hasetsu. Well, normal except for the barn sized dragon moping about in various parts of the royal residence. After Yuuri pretty much finagles a guarantee from the dragon that he won't eat, hurt, step on, or light on fire any of Yuuri's people, livestock, or buildings, he leaves the dragon to his own devices. He flies off every so often for parts unknown to Yuuri's short-lived relief, but is always back somewhere in Yuuri's vicinity before the day is done.

Yuuri has a moment of worry during the first few days, of how the dragon is feeding itself. He doesn't care if it starves but he does care if it's eating any of the livestock. It isn't though, which then makes Yuuri fear for the wild deer population. When an inspection of the surrounding forest proves that the families of deer are just as sprightly as ever, Yuuri is baffled, and maybe slightly, _only a teensy bit_ , worried about the dragon starving itself to death.

All of which in no way helps the condition of his poor beleaguered heart when he leaves an afternoon court session (apparently they have a minor theft problem but no one can pinpoint when it started) and steps out into the courtyard, only to see his dear mother standing unarmed and unarmored in front of the giant creature. Yuuri's already shooting towards her, a warning on his lips when he finally notices that his mother _is_ holding something, namely an enormous plate, and the dragon _isn't_ chomping on her neck, just whatever is on the plate. He's panting heavily when he reaches her side since he ran at full tilt, surprisingly fast even with his body out of shape. Still, he scowls at them both, especially when the dragon keeps happily exclaiming "koos-nah" and making his mom laugh.

"Mom, stop feeding him! He'll just keep coming back for it, like terrible mold."

"Oh, silly Yuuri-peachkins. He's harmless! See?" The Queen of the nation tells him, then proceeds to reach up under the dragon's chin and scratch. The dragon's spiky forehead nubs flare, then flattens against his head as he leans lower for her easy access, rumbling all the while like a freight train. The dragon tilts his chin this way and that, to ensure that Yuuri's mother reaches all the good spots. "Plus, we can't let it get out that the people of Hasetsu don't treat our guests well." She scritches another spot and the dragon's eyes roll back in pleasure.

"Mom, stop that! He won't leave if you keep doing that!" Yuuri doesn't go so far as to yank his mother away, that would be disrespectful, but he does push at the dragon's head. Which backfires when the dragon starts nuzzling into his palm instead. It's just a reflexive reaction and curiosity on Yuuri's part as to what dragon scale really feels like that compels him to pat and scratch. The dragon rumbles even louder before plopping down and sending up a cloud of dust, stretching out a wing that's perfectly within scratching distance for Yuuri.

"No!" Yuuri tells him, quite firmly he's happy to note. The wing retracts, before swinging back and pushing him over. The wing covers him completely, blacking out the day and smothering him in a shield of impenetrable warmth. Yuuri's mother starts laughing at his flustered yelling. After struggling futilely for a few moments the wing lifts and after a short lick to Yuuri's cheek, the dragon smugly takes off into the sky, leaving Yuuri behind, coughing in the take-off dust.


	3. sometimes you win, and sometimes you learn a new way of faking it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One "Courting for Dummies" Handbook desperately needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every comment and kudos made me smile or lol, so thank you to everyone who made my days that much more awesome. You guys rock! In thanks, I offer more extra!Victor. (~￣▽￣)~

The day doesn't get any better for Yuuri from there.

After the dragon takes to the sky, leaving Yuuri and his mom behind to ineffectually dust him off, Yuuri gets shuffled off by a shamelessly beaming Phichit who runs up and merrily announces, "Oh hey! Are you busy? Because the Toronto delegates are here, guess they decided to crash the negotiation party a few days early so, sorry Yuuri but you won't have any time to review the old business trade contracts, how do you feel about winging everything?" grin-grin-grin.

Yuuri hates being a Prince, being a Prince is totally overrated.

He should have been an ice skater instead, he would have totally been a contender.

Phichit expertly shuffles him off to his room after a quick bow to the Queen, to be made presentable again by Minako. Yuuri barely has a moment to breathe before he's in and out of the shower and unceremoniously shoved into a smart outfit, complete with an insignia ring. Yuuri tugs ineffectually at the dark blue pants, which is made of some soft, stretchy material that molds itself to his legs. The shirt and jacket at least has some give, conforming to his waist but still allowing space for him to comfortably move. He pulls at the braided tassels on his shoulders, raising a questioning eyebrow at Minako, who's heading towards him with a pair of black boots in hand.

"Don't give me that look. If Prince JJ doesn't have the good grace to arrive precisely when he says he'll arrive, then he'll just have to be secretly intimidated by you in all your military rank and glory. That boy may be talented but he talks a big game for someone who hasn't even seen battle yet," Minako declares, huffing a little in irritation as she bends down to plop the boots in front of Yuuri.

Yuuri sighs and drops into the chair Minako sets out for him, tugging the boots on. "I doubt he'll be intimidated by me, I haven't really done anything extraordinary enough for that." 

Minako gives him the same look she always does when he says things like that, just flat out unimpressed by Yuuri's unimpressive assertions that he's nothing special. She shakes her head, gently placing the simple, silver leaf paladoum* crown on his head, sweeping his hair down so that it sits neatly around the crown.

"Sometimes, I wonder what this kingdom would have been like, if we'd had a prince like JJ sitting regent," she muses quietly.

"A more efficiently run kingdom, you mean," Yuuri replies, not offended in the least by the truth.

Minako scoffs. "More like everyone would be homeless, having to move out of the capital to accommodate the size of that ego. And I doubt this kingdom would have been more efficient. Don't sell yourself short, kid."

Yuuri smiles down at his boots as he laces them, thinking how nice it is that Minako still feels the need to tell him uplifting untruths to build him up. He's grown past the age of needing constant reassurance, but he appreciates it coming from her all the same. "Don't judge him too quickly, he's new to the game and it can't be easy having to suddenly run a kingdom when your parents were perfectly fine at it only a year ago. I get where he's coming from." After all, Yuuri had been put in the same situation not too long ago. He doesn't blame Prince JJ for his grand standing, or at least, doesn't blame him for it too much. He's the sole representative of his country now, and a regent can never show weakness.

"Let's just get this over with," Yuuri says, grabbing the old treaty business contracts from the vanity table. Phichit must have retrieved it from his study and placed it there while Yuuri was showering before scuttling out. And indeed, there's a hamster smilie face drawn on a note attached to the forms. He quickly glances through it, eyes drawn to the important parts he'd marked during the council's preliminary briefing. Phichit was right, he'll probably have to wing the initial negotiations that start the moment Yuuri and Prince JJ meet, and just hammer out the salient details from there.

No sweat. He's done this plenty of times before, right? They'll meet, they'll negotiate, they'll both be reasonable and both their countries will be all the richer for it. Nothing to worry about, right?

~*~

Yuuri takes it back, JJ is a _jerk_.

~*~

"Pardon me?" Yuuri says again, because hearing it a third time might make it sound more reasonable than the first.

The Toronto delegate who is definitely _not_ Prince Jean Jacques Leroy, lifts his chin in a supercilious manner, the expression of exasperated indulgence on his face making Yuuri want to...do something. He's not sure what. "Of course, I've heard that Prince Yuuri is a little slow sometimes to pick up on social cues, so it won't be any trouble for me to repeat what I've already said twice." He bows, one arm presented in a sweeping motion, the other hand pressed to his heart, completely ignoring the gasps of outrage from Yuuri's contingent. The ridiculously large hat that he's wearing dangerously tips, but manages to cling on somehow. "Prince JJ sends me in his stead, as he's quite too busy at the moment to deal with such a small matter such as international trade."

"Too busy to...negotiate how many businesses belonging to Toronto are allowed to set up shop in Hasetsu?" Yuuri blinks, bewildered that any trade between two countries would be considered trivial, especially to a royal as untried as Prince JJ.

The delegate straightens, smirks in a patronizing manner at Yuuri. "I assure you, I am more than adequate to deal with this matter. I have Prince JJ's complete trust and authority to make any changes to the agreement. If I may be so bold as to suggest, perhaps Prince Yuuri should worry more about Hasetsu's side of the contract? Now if you'll excuse me, Your Highness, I must gather my belongings and ensure it wasn't damaged en route."

Yuuri's so surprised by the audacity of the delegate's words that he can only stare at his back as he leaves.

~*~

Later that night, Yuuri punches the pillow he's laying on, and then punches it again for good measure. "My side of the contract is _ironclad_ and _upon my whim_ , since this is _my land_. You're the ones begging for a favor, so learn some respect and humility. So respect my authority! Ugh! Why didn't I think of that comeback when I needed it!"

~*~

When Victor returns to Hasetsu Castle that night, it's to the sight of Phichit leaning against Victor's favorite scratching tree, unsubtly sharpening a knife and looking as if he's ready to park there all night if need be. Victor swoops in and picks up speed, landing with a formidable boom in front of Phichit. To the soldier's credit, he keeps his balance and looks utterly unimpressed, even if he is forced to brace himself against the tree to keep his feet.

Victor likes him already.

"Where do you go every day?" Phichit asks, pointedly not sheathing his knife.

"Here and there," Victor rumbles lowly. Didn't want to wake Yuuri up from his beauty sleep, after all, if his initial landing hadn't done it.

Phichit narrows his eyes at Victor, side eyeing him pretty hard and looking even more disapproving than before. "Why do you have dog hair in your teeth?"

Victor goes to spit and oh hey, that _is_ dog hair in his teeth. Not a lot, but probably enough that Victor should check Makkachin over for troubled spots the next time he visits him. Which will probably be tomorrow. "It's my dog Makkachin's fur! He likes to play catch, but he also likes to be caught! He really likes it when I snatch him off the ground and fly him around. His tongue hangs out and his ears flap cutely in the wind. He's absolutely to die for!"

As Victor speaks, Phichit's expression goes from suspicious and wary and ready to shank him to within an inch of his life, to helplessly charmed by the talk of his dog. "Weird. I didn't know dragons could have pet dogs."

Victor tilts his head. "Why not?"

"Well, wouldn't dogs be scared of an apex predator like that?"

"Makkachin's perfect and special. He'd never be scared of me," Victor declares.

"Yeah, I can see that." Phichit finally sheathes his knife and crosses over to Victor. He motions at the ground and Victor obligingly plops onto his front, not lowering his head but at least not towering so high that Phichit needs to develop a crick in his neck to talk to him. "How come you don't bring him here then? To be with you?"

Victor shrugs, his scales moving fluidly with the action. "He might get hurt, if some foreign visitors see me and attack. I don't want him to be caught up as collateral damage." Victor pauses, tilting his head at Phichit. "You really don't think I ate him?" Victor asks out of morbid curiosity.

"Naw, not enough blood between your teeth." Phichit flippantly replies, brushing his hand through the air as if swatting the ridiculous question away. "Besides, you haven't eaten any of dogs running around here, I figure you'd go for them first before going for your own pet."

"True," Victor admits, scratching a claw along his underchin. "But they don't smell delicious, so I wouldn't want to eat them anyway."

Instead of freaking Phichit out, he just looks more fascinated. "So dragons have a heightened sense of smell? I mean, it makes sense. So what animals smell good to you? Do humans smell delicious?"

Victor curls his head down to better see Phichit, warming up to the topic now that he can share his thoughts with someone. It's been bothering him since he got here but he doesn't think any of Hasetsu's people would take kindly to him declaring any of this. Apparently, Phichit might just understand. "Yuu~ri! Yuuri smells really good! He's the tastiest smelling human I've ever met. But not in the 'I want to eat him' way, because I would never want to eat him, _ever_ , but in the 'maybe other dragons will want to eat him' way. And he doesn't run very fast. I saw him this morning when he thought I was trying to eat his mom."

Phichit nods emphatically, and Victor nearly sighs in relief. Finally. Someone who understands. "I heard about that from the triplets this morning. Seriously though, who can actually resist the Queen's cooking? But no, I'm not surprised Yuuri would smell delicious. He eats so much katsudon, it kinda makes sense. And he used to be a really fearsome soldier, I mean, he still is but since he's stuck behind a desk so much these days, he's pretty much out of shape. I keep telling him to train but...he's always putting the country's needs before his health."

"Training's not going to cut it. What if some dragon comes by and tries to eat him when I'm not here?" Victor practically wails.

"You're ridiculous," Phichit shakes his head at him, pursing his lips. "You are literally the only dragon in existence right now, unless you're telling me you've got an illegitimate mini-me dragon stashed somewhere?"

Victor rears back, scandalized. "No! I would never cheat on Yuuri like that!"

Phichit gives him an 'I'm so over this' look. "...Right. Putting aside the fact that you're both _different species_ , moving on," Phichit continues over Victor's baffled 'Wait, what? We are?' "We'll have to figure out a way to make him faster. And wily."

"And able to defend himself against dragons," Victor adds, very adamant about this point. Until Yuuri stopped smelling like the world's tastiest orgasmic snack, he's going to keep a close eye on Yuuri and give him every tool in the world necessary to defend himself. "No more katsudon?"

Phichit nods and says darkly, "No more katsudon. He won't like it, but it's necessary. I get him in the mornings," he quickly adds.

Victor lowly clicks, disappointed he's missed out on the chance to see Yuuri all adorably rumpled and soft from sleep first thing at dawn, but consoles himself that at least he'll get to see Yuuri during his most earnest hours. "Fine. But I get him during the evenings as well as the afternoons."

"Deal. Gotta warn you though, he's got council meetings all afternoon, so I doubt you'll see him any more than at night."

"Unfair!"

"Hey, you haven't been here all day," Phichit heads off his rant, "I bet you haven't heard that the Toronto representative arrived today. Wanna guess what he did and how he insulted our Yuuri?"

~*~

Five more days of this negotiation with Prince JJ's representative and Yuuri might have to commit murder.

The man is belligerent, unhelpful, and tends to demand more than his kingdom's fair share, acting like every concession he gives Yuuri is a gift from God. Yuuri's been able to politely and firmly say no to every unreasonable stipulation the man has demanded so far, but his polite meter is practically running on fumes and he doubts he'll last to the end of the week.

"And of course, you'll have to subsidize our building materials as we set up factories on your land," the delegate is saying, not even looking at Yuuri but admiring his ostentatious ring instead. "It's only fair. Plus, the assets will be easier to transport if it's coming from here, instead of us having to--"

"One year," the dragon suddenly says from the large, open windows, heating the room with his breath and scaring the bejeezus out of the foreign delegate seated at the table. The man probably didn't expect a mythical dragon to just stick its head in through the window and start talking, especially while they're on the third floor.

"Whu-wha--wwhu is tha-..?"

Yuuri, used to this line of bargaining since it's been going on for a few days already since the botched petting session, ignores the dragon. "If you'll turn to page 62," Yuuri tells the delegate from Toronto, "you'll note under section b, subsection iii that the factories must be environmentally friendly, especially to the wildlife that inhabit the land. The cost of building a factory of that nature is prohibitive and entirely your court's responsibi--"

"Yu~u~u~r~i!" The dragon wheedles, making the delegate jump again and scoot his chair that much further away from the window. Yuuri refuses to even turn and look at the dragon. "Just one year! I even found the perfect decrepit castle, with a broken drawbridge and leftover skeletons and everything. It even has a nest of mice in there! I'll just scorch the earth around the castle a bit, you'll live in the tower, and I'll bring you everything you need. Anything at all. The best jewels in the land. The yummiest food.” The dragon looks directly at the delegate then, his teeth somehow growing sharper and eyes flashing ominously. “The blood and bones of your enemies.” The delegate whimpers but Victor’s all smiles and cajoling sweetness when Yuuri turns and shoots him a look of disbelief. “It'll be fun! Yuuuuu~ri! Won't you?"

Yuuri smiles tightly at the delegate. "Excuse me, please." He gets up and walks over to the dragon, pushes his head out by the nose, and shuts the window in his face. He throws the dead lock on the window for good measure.

He ignores the wet nose pressed against the glass in retaliation.

He definitely ignores the huff of hot air, and the subsequent heart the wet nose traces on the window panes.

When he gets back to the table, the delegate is pale as a sheet, shaking slightly, and willing to sign everything Yuuri places before him, no amendments needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *paladoum- completely made up. A rare material mined and found only in Yuuri's kingdom. It's a good conductor, very flexible and sturdy, which allows for it to adapt to many uses.
> 
> Contender comment is an homage to Marlon Brando from On the Waterfront. "Respect my authority!" is borrowed from South Park.


End file.
